Yoga

It's Wednesday, my dudes. Midweek madness is upon us. The anger from Monday is still looming in the back of our brains somewhere. That goddamn Tuesday is over. And the weekend? Closer than ever.

Today I want to talk about something that really shifted my perspective—something that cracked through my cynicism and made me rethink my close-minded assumptions.

Yoga.

Yeah yeah yeah, okay. I used to roll my eyes too.

A few months ago, on a whim, I decided to try it out. Why not? I'll try anything twice. Who am I to judge anyone on anything? I barely know how to make a slice of toast without burning it.

I used to think it was just for trust fund babies spending daddy's money on a double tall mocha frappuccino pumpkin spice latte. Note: don't go to Starbucks in Malta, please. Let's just say I know who owns it.

Not for me. I wanted chaos. I wanted something that hurt. Something manly. Something for a real tough guy.

I wanted to increase my flexibility—because I have the flexibility of a plank of wood. I’m basically Plank from Ed, Edd n Eddy. Tight hamstrings, stiff hips, shoulders like two bricks in a trench coat. Something had to give.

I figured I’d suffer through a few classes, maybe learn to touch my toes, then bounce.

But yoga had other plans.

Somewhere along the line, my intention for the practice changed. I was no longer there to increase flexibility. The word flexibility wouldn’t even enter my mind. I was there for me. To become better. To work out my favourite muscle: my brain.

I would stare at my yogi and try to follow her exactly. My inner tough guy tried to keep up. He got wrecked.

I would shake. Crack. Swear. Stumble.

Until I was humbled. Yoga was a different kind of challenge. A mental one. One hour alone with my mind and body—where the two meet. A workout for the busy, restless, overthinking mind.

Holding a pose while breathing? That's not easy, man. That’s as tough as hitting a new squat PR. It’s a challenge.

But I love a challenge.

And so I fell in love with yoga. Especially on Wednesdays.

I see the world move in waves.

And my mind?

It moves in ways. 

I reset myself every Monday. I think a lot of people do. We tend to start things on Mondays—diets, routines, yoga classes.

"Alright, I'll get through this week, prepare everything, and start fresh on Monday."

-everyone, at one point or another

I start my week groggy. Anxious. Nervous for what new bullshit the week is going to throw at me. As the hours go by, I grow increasingly restless. Angry, even. Then Tuesday drags its feet. And by Wednesday evening, I’m at my limit—a knotted ball of stress.

Then I go to yoga.

I practice breathing. I stretch muscles I didn’t know I had. I push myself. I relax. I remember that everything’s okay. I try to catch a thought I can meditate on. Until the minutes melt. And for a few of them—I just am.

For that hour,

the world stands still.

All that matters

is my presence in the universe.

I focus on my yogi’s voice. I feel the warmth of the room on my skin. Hell, I barely feel the stretch that was killing me a second ago.

I think to myself:

What an amazing feeling. How lucky I am to have all these blessings.

That’s why I recommend yoga. It helps. With everything. 2024 was intense. 2025? A full-blown what the fuck. But yoga has helped me navigate the noise.

If you're going through it—and let's be honest, you are—try yoga. Give it a go. Be like me: try anything twice. The first time will frustrate you. Like any skill when you're just starting out. But I promise you: it helps.

And if all else fails, there's always savasana—the art of lying down and calling it spiritual.

Because sometimes, doing nothing is everything.

If yoga doesn’t work for you, that’s cool too. Maybe something else does. Do that. Just get one hour a week to yourself. Just you. No one else.

Namaste or whatever.

But seriously—make time for yourself. Even if it’s just to breathe.

And to my yogi, if you're reading this—thank you.For holding space, for sharing your energy, and for teaching me that stillness isn't the absence of movement, but the presence of awareness.

Talk soon – matt